One
by WaylaidWanderer
Summary: Scorpius had poured his heart out to her, and Rose had shoved it all back in his face. Warning: contains cutting and suicide. A ScorpiusxRose relationship, but not really. A dark!fic.


**Summary:** Scorpius had poured his heart out to her, and Rose had shoved it all back in his face. **Warning: contains cutting and suicide.** A ScorpiusxRose relationship, but not really. A dark!fic.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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One

_One..._

Scorpius Malfoy hissed in pain as he drew the cold dagger across his flesh. Tiny beads of warm, bright scarlet blood began forming under the skin and then coagulated into a pool of red, running in rivulets down his arm.

All he wanted at that moment was to die. He realized just how much he had lost, but most of all, and perhaps the only thing he had lost which was important to him, was her trust. He had lost her trust.

He remembered when Rose Weasley used to be able to tell him anything. It didn't matter how trivial, how ridiculous or even how personal it was; she told him everything. They were just that close. She had told him about her problems, about the things that irritated her, and the things she loved. And now...

_Two..._

Scorpius carved another line of red across his arm, the second stream of blood joining the first. He gazed dispassionately at his blood as it dripped onto the floor below.

He remembered when Rose laughed with him; her bright smile and red hair lighting up his day, no matter how dark of a mood he was in. He remembered her kind eyes gazing at him. He remembered...

_Three..._

Another line formed, close to the previous one, causing him to wince slightly as the cold metal cut through his inflamed flesh.

Scorpius remembered how distant Rose had been with him. She no longer smiled at him, and when her eyes met his, it was only icy, and devoid of emotions. She was cold towards him, as if he didn't deserve her notice. Every time she spoke to him, her words were harsh; her phrases short.

_Four..._

Another line across his arm joined the other three. His arm was slick with blood.

He remembered the day when they stopped being friends – the day they were split apart. He used to have a habit of writing his thoughts to her. He would take some time at night every once in a while and just write, and send her his letters with an owl.

One day, Rose had told him that he hadn't sent her a letter for quite a while. So that night, Scorpius had taken some time, and poured out his heart to her; his frustrations, his fears, his thoughts, and all his energy.

Scorpius had told Rose that he loved her a long time ago. Rose had accepted this, but informed him that she did not love him back. She advised him to forget about it, to move on, as she didn't deserve him. He had argued, and they had let the matter drop. And each day he loved her; each day he was filled with hurt because of her, although she had never realized.

And that night, in his letter, Scorpius told her how much she had hurt him, but expressed that no matter what, he would love her anyways. He also expressed his fears: that he was a bad person. He was a Slytherin, and Slytherins were known to be monsters. He thought he was despicable. As he was about to send the letter, he was hesitant because he had revealed so much of himself, but he promised himself, and to Rose that he would always tell her what he was thinking.

The next day, Rose acted cold and distant towards him. Scorpius feared the worst: that Rose saw him for what he himself thought he was: an evil person. Her words with him were brief, and she took an inordinate amount of time to reply to his apologies and concerns.

Scorpius was convinced that he had done something wrong. He pressed her, but she had told him explicitly that he didn't do anything. Her tone implied that he was an idiot, and she treated him as such.

"Nothing's wrong." she had snapped.

"Why are you acting so cold and distant, then?" Scorpius had asked.

"Maybe it's none of your business." Rose had said; her voice sharp.

"Please... tell me." Scorpius had begged. He didn't understand why she was refusing to tell him.

"Maybe it's none of your business." Rose had repeated, enunciating each word.

Scorpius had felt extremely hurt by this. She had told him everything, so why not now? She refused to tell him what she thought of his letter, only saying that she had no thoughts in regards to that subject.

Scorpius kept asking her what was wrong. He was hopelessly confused about why Rose was acting that way.

"It's nothing and it's none of your business!" Rose had yelled, and then ran away, her red hair flying behind her, leaving Scorpius to stare at the place where she was, feeling more hurt than he had ever felt in his life. Tears had welled up in his eyes, but he didn't cry. He couldn't.

From that day on, they had never talked again. Their friendship was obliterated, leaving Scorpius only with memories – painful memories. They built up within him, and he couldn't let them out, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't cry, no matter how much he wanted to. So he had resorted to cutting himself, giving himself physical pain so that he could release the emotional pain.

_Five..._

Scorpius was feeling faint; his vision was swirling around him dizzily. He had lost too much blood. He could have stopped the bleeding with a Healing Charm, but he didn't want to.

All he wanted to do was die.

Scorpius slumped down onto the floor, unconscious, blood pooling all around him.

A few hours later, he was dead.


End file.
